Southern Cross to Pole Star by Aimé Tschiffely

Southern Cross to Pole Star by Aimé Tschiffely

Author:Aimé Tschiffely [Tschiffely, Aimé]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781781857199
Publisher: Head of Zeus


Quito

We had a good time in this quaint and interesting city. The horses enjoyed themselves in an alfalfa field some three miles out of town, while I stayed in an excellent hotel and made the best of every minute.

Many of Quito’s houses date back to the early colonial times, and some of the churches are of great architectural merit. Wonderful gold ornaments and remarkable paintings are to be seen in some of them, but, as all churches built by the early Spaniards, their interiors are dark and gloomy. Living in Quito is the cheapest I have ever experienced, but maybe this was due to the very low exchange of Ecuadorian money at the time. Considering the ideal climate and the beautiful scenery, not to mention the historic buildings and general quaintness of the town, it is surprising how relatively few tourists make the trip up to the capital.

He who looks for the pleasures of a modern city does well to stay away from Quito, for after nine o’clock the town is fast asleep, except for a few miserable barefooted prostitutes who solicit in dark corners and in the shadows of the ancient arcades around the principal plaza. Early in the morning one is awakened by the clattering of many church bells calling the flock to mass.

I could not help noticing the number of huge padlocks which make the doors of some of the shops secure. An Ecuadorian friend of mine said there was an old joke about these padlocks. Supposing a shop is run by three partners, each one of them had his own lock. When the store is to be opened all the three have to be present to make this possible; in other words, their slogan is: Safety first!

Ecuador has an army of five thousand men, and I am told that about half of them are musicians. Nowhere have I heard so many military bands, bugles and drums as in Quito, in fact, I sometimes thought I was living in an army training-camp.

Antiques, real and imitation, are offered to visitors at very cheap prices. Even the illegal traffic in reduced human heads, previously mentioned, is carried on. Longhaired Indians, in wide white trousers, and usually wearing gaily coloured ponchos, do the work of street cleaners. Indian women work as road menders and brick carriers. They carry their loads on their backs, supporting the weight with a strap across their foreheads, and I have seen some carry loads very few white men would care to tackle. The markets are full of life, and I often wandered among the bartering, quarrelling, and chattering crowd that both interested and amused me. From Saturday noon until Monday a ‘dry law’ comes in force. Strange as it may seem, although I never thought about drinking in the ordinary course of events, the very idea of it being prohibited filled me with a desire to have a cocktail on these ‘dry’ days.

Our delightful stay had to come to an end, for I was timing



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